This month, Murmuration partnered with Voto Latino to field a national survey of 6,559 Americans focused on the experience of living inside this economy. We asked how people are managing, what they’re cutting back on, and how they’re thinking about their financial futures.

We started with a simple question: what is the biggest problem in your life right now?

For almost half (48%) of Americans, the answer is money. But that burden isn’t evenly distributed. It’s even higher among young adults (55%), those in their prime working years (53%), women (53%), and Hispanic or Latino respondents (52%).

The Cost of Daily Life

To understand how that pressure shows up in people’s lives, it helps to start with the basics.

When we asked people to describe their current level of financial comfort, a majority—56%—said they are not comfortable. That includes people who are struggling to cover basic expenses, as well as those who can technically pay their bills but feel like money is always tight. Only 11% describe themselves as very comfortable, with no major financial concerns. In other words, most Americans are living right on the edge.

For many, an unexpected expense of even $500 would pose a serious challenge. More than half of Americans (52%) have no immediate way to pay. Some would take on credit card debt (16%), borrow from family or friends (10%), or need to sell possessions to raise funds (8%). Fully 18% of Americans say their household would not be able to cover a $500 emergency at all.

Why is money so tight? Over the past year, 50% of Americans point to the cost of food and groceries as one of the top three expenses putting strain on their household budget. Utilities follow at 40%, then rent or mortgage at 37%, and gas or transportation at 32%. These aren’t frivolous, discretionary expenses. They are the necessities and fixed costs of everyday life.

Overall, 62% of Americans say it has become harder to afford everyday expenses compared to just a few years ago (32% much harder, 30% somewhat harder). And for many, the distress caused by rising costs isn’t occasional—it’s constant. Roughly 7 in 10 Americans experience financial worry on a regular basis.

From Adjustment to Triage

When expenses go up, people adjust. They make tradeoffs. What emerges from these choices is not just a set of isolated behaviors, but a hierarchy of sacrifice.

The response to rising gas prices, in particular, offers a window into how people’s lives have been forced to change. Almost half of Americans (48%) say they’ve cut back on driving or travel because of gas prices. But the impact doesn’t stop at fewer trips: 34% say they are spending less on other essentials to make up for what they are paying for gas, and 15% have changed their work or commute habits entirely.

More broadly, people are making significant, life-altering decisions for financial reasons alone. Things that should be high priorities, that characterize our basic quality of life and ability to live stress- and worry-free, are falling by the wayside. Things like cutting time with friends and family, delaying paying bills, postponing medical care, or even skipping meals and reducing food spending.

The data suggests that people start by cutting what feels optional: dinners out, gatherings, small moments of leisure. But as pressure builds, those tradeoffs move inward. Food budgets shrink. Medical care gets delayed. Bills are pushed. What begins as adjustment becomes constraint, and then something closer to triage. These are not one-time decisions. They are ongoing calculations about what can be postponed, reduced, or given up entirely.

Same Problem, Different Blame

Americans hold multiple, overlapping theories for why the cost of living has become more expensive over the past five to ten years. They assign responsibility broadly across both the private sector and government. But Democrats and Republicans tell very different narratives about what (and who) is to blame:

While Democrats see corporate greed and trade policy as having the biggest impact, Republicans are more likely to blame the COVID-19 pandemic, energy costs, and the effects of immigration for the rising cost of living.

One thing that people do broadly agree on is that the president, Congress, and other elected officials can impact families’ ability to afford everyday expenses. Nearly two-thirds (62%) say that political leaders have a lot of influence on the economy; another 26% say they have at least some influence. Only 9% believe that elected officials have little to no power over basic affordability.

Yet there is a noticeable lack of optimism about where things are headed. Only 36% of Americans believe their financial situation will improve over the next few years. More than one in five (21%) expect things to get worse, and 38% say they’re simply unsure. For many, the future feels less like a trajectory and more like a question mark.

That same sense of strain extends to the bigger milestones that have long defined the American dream. When we asked whether buying a home, raising a family, and retiring comfortably felt realistic, 31% said these goals are mostly out of reach. Another 34% said they’re possible, but difficult to achieve. Just 25% said these goals feel fully within reach.

Relief, Not Reinvention

There’s actually a surprising amount of agreement on steps that Americans believe would make things better. There is strong support for policies that directly reduce or stabilize the core costs of living—particularly housing and utilities:

Housing, in particular, stands out as the area of strongest agreement—not just overall, but across political lines. Property tax relief is rated as “very helpful” by 62% of Trump voters and 48% of Harris voters. Limits on rent increases are seen as helpful by 59% of Trump voters and 90% of Harris voters. First-time homebuyer support is viewed as helpful by 72% of Trump voters and 85% of Harris voters. In a landscape where consensus is often hard to find, housing affordability emerges as one of the clearest areas of overlap.

There is also meaningful support for policies that address income and debt more directly. About 68% say increasing the minimum wage would be helpful, and 64% say the same about student debt relief. These solutions operate on the other side of the equation—either increasing what people earn or reducing what they owe—but they point to the same underlying imbalance.

Final Thoughts

The story this data tells is not just about money. It’s about the conditions under which people are living their lives and how those conditions are forcing people to change in response to accumulating economic pressure.

For decades, there has been an implicit promise at the center of American life: that if you work hard, you can get ahead. But for many, that promise no longer feels true. Today, 69% of Americans say that even “people who work hard struggle to get ahead financially”.

At the same time, people are not confused about what would actually make a difference. When asked what would help most, 28% point to lowering the cost of everyday essentials like food, gas, and utilities, while 18% say wages that keep up with the cost of living would matter most, followed by housing costs and taxes (11%), healthcare (9%), and debt (9%). They are a set of clear, immediate pressures that shape daily decision-making.

And those decisions are increasingly defined by tradeoffs. When nearly half the country is cutting back on time with family and friends, even connection itself starts to become a luxury. The slow erosion of gathering, celebration, and everyday togetherness doesn’t show up in economic indicators, but it reshapes how people experience their lives, their communities, and their sense of belonging.

These are some of the questions that follow:

• How should institutions respond to a population where financial insecurity is the norm rather than the exception?

• What happens to a society when people can no longer afford to show up for each other, not just economically, but socially and emotionally?

• How does a life organized around constant tradeoffs change what people expect from the future?

What this data makes clear is that the financial strain Americans are living with is a structural reality, built up over years and felt in grocery aisles, doctor’s offices, and kitchen tables across every region of the country.

Hard choices, not inevitable ones.

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Murmuration is a non-profit that organizes a network of partners and equips them with the insights, tools, and services needed to help communities build and activate the power to transform America into a nation where everyone thrives. murmuration.org

Voto Latino is a civic advocacy organization dedicated to educating and empowering the next generation of Latino voters while working to build a more inclusive and representative democracy. votolatino.org

This is not a story about apathy. It is a story about drift—the slow, uneven way that political awareness fades when people are stretched thin, when institutions feel distant, and when the news cycle feels both relentless and disconnected from daily life. Understanding that drift matters right now, because local elections are where it shows up first.

Declining Awareness, Rising Doubt

Since May 2025, Civic Pulse has been tracking local political awareness, personal impact on local issues, and local government effectiveness across nearly 150,000 Americans. The results are worth sitting with.

Political awareness has declined steadily. A year ago, the net share of Americans who felt politically aware and informed was around 70%. Recently, it has been closer to 60%. That is not a collapse, but it is a meaningful erosion, and it has moved in one direction. Over time, people are expressing lower confidence in how informed they feel—reflecting changing engagement patterns, evolving information environments, and the possibility that national narratives are crowding out attention to local issues.

Perceptions of local government effectiveness have fallen even more sharply and crossed into net negative territory. A year ago, Americans tended to view their local governments positively by a 10-point margin. That confidence fell over the summer, and since September 2025, a greater share of Americans consistently say their local government is not effective than say it is effective.

When a national measure of local effectiveness declines this suddenly, it reflects something broad and widely felt: a general sense that institutions aren’t working, which trickles down from federal politics and colors how people see everything, including the city council and the school board. The risk in that conflation is real. Turning out for a primary—even a quiet, low-turnout one—can shape who leads a school district, a county commission, or a city hall for years.

And yet, over the same time period, Americans’ perceptions of their own capacity for personal impact have risen. On net, 25 to 30% more Americans feel they can make a personal difference in their communities. People are volunteering. They are donating. They are showing up to events, signing petitions, organizing neighbors, contacting officials. The community infrastructure—the personal, relational kind—has not dissipated even as the institutional confidence around it has fallen.

Final Thoughts

Political interest and local government confidence do not usually recover on their own. They recover when something pulls people back in—a candidate who feels like one of them, a ballot measure that hits close to home, a neighbor who says “this matters, help.”

Our upcoming nationwide elections will be decided, in many cases, by small margins in places national media will not cover. The people most likely to make a difference in those races are the same ones whose political awareness is slipping—not because they stopped caring, but because the information environment has made it harder to know what to pay attention to, and the issues that should feel local have started to feel abstract.

The data don’t answer what comes next. But they do raise some questions:

• What would it take for the people who still believe in their own personal impact to see local elections as the most direct expression of that belief?

• How do communities keep the personal and relational infrastructure alive when government confidence continues to erode?

• And what do we lose—in representation, in accountability, in the basic mechanics of democracy—if many voters are uninformed or unaware of the political forces shaping elections?

The trends on that chart are not inevitable. But they do not reverse themselves.

What slips still shapes us.

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Murmuration is a non-profit that organizes a network of partners and equips them with the insights, tools, and services needed to help communities build and activate the power to transform America into a nation where everyone thrives. murmuration.org

This conversation came into focus recently at a gathering in Los Angeles, where we celebrated Murmuration’s Founder and CEO Emma Bloomberg being named one of USA Today’s Women of the Year. That room felt like a mirror for something we see in the data over and over: leadership in America is often local and personal: people stepping up to provide care, organize their communities, or lend a hand. And the women doing it frequently carry a heavier burden than anyone acknowledges.

We took a closer look by fielding a national survey of 7,287 adults, specifically focused on women’s leadership in communities across the country.

Here’s what we found.

Who Holds it Together

When we asked Americans who shows up, keeps things running, and looks out for people in their community, most saw men and women sharing these responsibilities. But one in five said mostly women, compared to only about one in ten who said mostly men.

Here’s where it gets more interesting. Women and men don’t see this the same way. Among women, 25% said mostly women, and only 7% said mostly men. Among men, 14% said mostly women, and 15% said mostly men. Among women under 35, the perception is even stronger: three in ten say it is mostly women doing this work.

Nearly as many Americans see leaders in their community as informal – people in their own neighborhoods (36%) – as they see as formal leaders like elected officials or administrators (39%). And when we asked an open-ended question—who specifically holds your community together?—the answers deepened this. People named their informal anchors: the individuals and groups that they saw taking action in their everyday lives: “The mothers in the community are what seems to be holding everything together.” “Women because they are more nurturing.“ “Women, specifically black women.“

Americans are not limiting their understanding of leadership to titles. They recognize the everyday forms of authority that come from trust, proximity, and reliability.

The Cost of Showing Up

Most agree that taking on responsibilities in their communities is a source of personal fulfillment. Among those who are actively helping others or working on solving problems, 70% find the work more fulfilling than draining (20%). In fact, 39% of women and 36% of men say they want to be even more involved in their community than they currently are.

But here the similarities end. A majority (64%) of Americans agree that “when women step into leadership, they face more criticism or pushback than men.“ The gender breakdown is stark: 70% of women agree (33% strongly) vs. 58% of men (19% strongly). Among women 18-34, fully 45% strongly agree—nearly double the rate of women 65+ (23%). Even across party lines, there’s majority agreement: 78% of Democrats, 63% of Independents, and 53% of Republicans all agree that women face more scrutiny in leadership. These are majorities across the board.

At the same time, burnout is widespread—and it isn’t evenly distributed. Over the past year, 35% of women said they felt extremely or very burnt out, compared to 27% of men. That 8-point gap compounds at younger ages: among women 18–34, 44% fall in the high-burnout zone. Almost one in four young women say they have felt extremely burned out.

The data offers suggestions for why. Americans who are more involved in their communities are also more likely to be busier with family responsibilities at home. The work compounds. 42% of women are currently caring for children under 18, aging parents, or both—compared to 39% of men. Those caring for both generations are among the most civically active people in the country. They are more likely to volunteer, attend community events, sign petitions, and show up to town halls than those without caregiving responsibilities. These are people simultaneously sustaining households, sustaining communities, and sustaining everyone else.

“The everyday parents that take responsibility for their children, family and neighbors”– 57, Female, Republican, Clark, NV

The weight shows up again when you ask why women aren’t doing more. Feeling spread too thin is the top reason—peaking at 32% among women 35–49, and at 25% among women 18–34. But underneath that, something else surfaces: 22% of young women say they aren’t more involved because they simply don’t know where to start, which is 7 points higher than the national rate.

Women are seen as central to keeping communities running—and many are, in both formal and informal ways—while also managing caregiving demands, financial pressure, and some of the highest burnout rates in the country.

Traits of Community Leaders

We asked what people truly want and expect from leaders in their community. What characteristics matter most to them? The top answer, selected by more than half of Americans, was honesty and trustworthiness. The second was listening and understanding.

When broken down by gender, women prioritize listening and understanding at 42%, compared to 36% for men. Women select “showing care and compassion“ at 27%, men at 21%. Men are more likely to prioritize expertise and competence (21% vs. women’s 15%). But at the very top, the two groups converge: 53% of women and 50% of men chose honest and trustworthy.

What Americans say they want from community leadership—across gender, across party, across age—is, at its core, a feeling of confidence in those around them to treat them with honesty and respect, to hear their voices and concerns, and to keep their commitments to one another. It’s the kind of leadership that looks a lot like what women are already doing in neighborhoods and school boards and community organizations every day.

Final Thoughts

Women’s leadership is not a future aspiration. It is a present force shaping communities from the ground up, especially at a moment when the country feels fragile, frustrated, and uncertain.

And there is a gap between that reality and how we respond to it. Women are doing more of the work, facing more scrutiny when they step up, and burning out at higher rates—and yet they remain the most hopeful and the most hungry to do more. That combination is somewhere between remarkable and concerning.

So we are left with a set of hard but constructive questions.

• What does it take to change the scrutiny people face when they lead?

• How do we close the gap between women who want to be more involved and the on-ramps that would actually get them there?

• What does it say that the qualities Americans most want in a leader are ones women are already demonstrating in communities every day?

The question now is not whether women are leading. It is whether we are fully seeing, and fully supporting, the leadership that is already here.

Turns out it’s women. And sure, maybe coffee too.

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Murmuration is a non-profit that strengthens community-driven change at the local level. By equipping local organizations with powerful data, technology, and insights, Murmuration helps them amplify community voices, build collective power, and drive solutions that reflect the lived realities of the people they serve. murmuration.org

Introducing…

25 young kids, with sticky fingers, strong opinions, and absolutely no interest in pretending things are fine if they are not.

The results were surprisingly coherent. Also, kinda funny. And, at times, a little devastating in the way only a five-year-old can be when they look you dead in the eye and say something like, “[If I were in charge] I would say you can’t have any candy. And no TV.”

Let’s begin.

The Diagnosis

Kids do not have a theory of polarization. They do not know what a filibuster is. Most have never heard the phrase “civic decline.” But they are extremely clear on one thing: things start to go wrong when people are not nice.

To them, “not nice” behavior is concrete. It is something you can see. “A mean face,” one four-year-old explained, squinting and tightening his fists to demonstrate. Others described it as yelling, complaining, touching things that are not yours, or calling someone stupid. Some talked about it more directly: “When another friend bit me.” “[When] they don’t treat people how they want to be treated.” “[When] they’re grumpy like Grumpy Monkey.” In their world, these moments disrupt the group quickly. When they happen, kids expect the grownups in the room to step in. One child proposed a clear enforcement mechanism: “The teacher should take them home and their mommy can put them on their bed for time out.”

But the bigger problem is often exclusion. A bad day at school is rarely about academics—it is about belonging. Even small moments carry weight: someone touching your desk without permission, someone throwing away your pencil, someone insisting you are a ninja if you are not.

Fairness is another fault line kids notice quickly. When asked what they would do if they had ten cookies and another child had none, most favored balance. “I would give them some of my cookies” or “Give them five so we would have an even number.” Others proposed partial sharing: “I’d give one so I would have nine.” “If I have extra cookies, they can have my extra cookies.” Only two children suggested keeping everything: “I would just eat them myself” (though we were told he was very hungry at the time) and “I would keep them all in my hand.” But the dominant instinct was visible fairness. Or, in one particularly elegant solution: “Make more cookies. And then he can have 10 cookies too.” That same instinct showed up again later—when asked what they would do if they were in charge of the country for a day, one child simply said, “Give them my cookies.”

Kids also notice when effort does not lead to success. One child described the feeling simply: “Building a high building but it keeps falling down.” Frustration, in their view, often builds from there. When asked why someone might feel grumpy or sad, many traced it back to something that happened earlier: “Because something bad happened to them.” and again, “Because their friends are not nice.” In their framework, problems are connected. Hurt people often become the ones acting unkind.

Finally, they notice when the rules themselves feel unstable. One child described bringing a favorite toy to school and being allowed to have it briefly—but not later. “I could only have him for snack time.” The frustration was not just the rule itself. It was the rule changing. For kids, predictability matters. When expectations shift without explanation, trust starts to erode.

Taken together, their diagnosis is surprisingly clear. Things deteriorate when people are unkind, when someone is excluded, when fairness feels off, when effort does not lead to progress, and when the people in charge seem inconsistent or absent.

The Repair Agenda

Most kids are not drafting ten-point policy plans. They are not talking about “systems change.” Their solutions are much more practical. Much more immediate. If you ask them how to make things better, the answers cluster around a few simple conditions.

Start with playing. A lot of kids seemed to believe the country’s problems might ease up considerably if everyone just had somewhere to climb and run around. “I would tell them to all go to Hawaii and go on a waterslide,” one child told us. Even when it came to school, the same logic applied: learning works best when it still feels like play—“when we get to do the lab stations where you get to play.” Finally, one respondent offered what may be the simplest theory of social cohesion we’ve heard all year: “Playing with someone nice.” In their world, togetherness is preventative care.

Then there is food. Snacks are not a side note. They are infrastructure. “Adults should know snack time is at 3:00 and they can pick any snack they want,” one child said, with the calm authority of someone who has thought this through. Another explained, very emphatically, “I like Chick-fil-A.” And when asked what to do if someone didn’t have food, the answer was immediate. “Give away some.” In their world, hunger is solvable, sharing is obvious, and fairness is something you can see.

Rest follows naturally. They may resist naps themselves, but they understand the pattern. When someone is unkind, something else is usually going on. “They need to rest a little bit more,” one respondent said. Another offered the simplest reset available. “Take a break.” or spoken from true personal experience they might just need “Water and bandaid.”

And finally, repair. For kindergartners, apologies are not ceremonial. They are functional. It starts with stopping the behavior. “I’ll say, ‘Stop! I don’t like that. Don’t do it ANY day!’” one child explained. Then comes care. “A hug.” “A smooch.” Or, as one child put it, “a hug, or a kiss and respect.” Another suggested a slightly more advanced approach:

“Say something nice to them, give them a compliment or ask them what made them upset.” - 7 year old girl, Virginia

The goal is not punishment. The goal is to help someone feel better so everyone can return to playing together.

Final Thoughts

It is hard not to hear, beneath the humor, a serious civic vision.

A country with more kindness, places to gather, and fewer barriers to belonging. A country that takes fairness seriously in ways people can see and feel. A country that intervenes early, apologizes often, and understands that sometimes conflict is what happens when people are overwhelmed.

Rather than our tradition of leaving you with more questions, we’re passing along a few things these experts thought all adults should know:

• “Share with everybody.” - 4 year old boy, New York

• “Learn to be kind.” - 4 year old boy, Texas

• “Don’t be naughty.” - 4 year old boy, California

• “People need to be treated good… make everyone feel included.” - 6 year old girl, Washington

And finally, one child offered a gentle reminder:

“Grown ups do not know everything. Kids are sometimes smarter than grown ups.” - 4 year old boy, Vermont

Honestly, that feels about right.

It may be April Fools…But the quotes are real.

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Technology is often told as a generational story. Younger Americans are supposed to be the ones who adapt first—the “digital natives” who grow up alongside new tools and incorporate them into everyday life. From social media to smartphones, each wave of technology has arrived with the assumption that younger people will lead the way. Artificial intelligence might seem like the next chapter in that pattern.

And in one sense, it is. Younger Americans are experimenting with AI tools more than anyone else. They’re using them to write, summarize, organize ideas, plan projects, and navigate everyday tasks. AI is showing up in homework, early careers, creative projects, and even personal decision-making.

But the data tells a more complicated story. The same generation using these tools most frequently is also among the most skeptical about what they do and what they might become.

Heavy Use, Growing Doubt

Artificial intelligence is already woven into daily life for many Americans, but using AI and trusting AI are two very different things. In fact, the data reveals a stark reality: despite all of the hype around AI technology, most Americans remain deeply skeptical.

Increasingly, Americans are saying that they think Artificial Intelligence technology is a bad thing and that it is having a negative impact on the world. Young Americans are leading the way. Above age 35, 46% say AI is bad; under age 35, it is 58%. Above age 35, 49% say AI is having a negative impact on the world; under age 35, it is 66%.

It is not only that younger Americans are more negative in their assessment—they are also more certain. Uncertainty about the impact of AI is much higher among older Americans. Over a third of those age 65+ say they are unsure whether AI is having a positive or negative impact on the world. It is possible that as older Americans have more experience with AI, they will come around to the views of younger people.

Most strikingly, Americans—especially younger people—simply do not trust AI to be safe. Nearly seven in ten (67%) say they lack confidence in its safety, a concern that is even more pronounced among those aged 18–34, where 70% express the same skepticism.

The Worries Behind the Numbers

When Americans talk about AI in their own words, the concerns come into focus quickly. They are not abstract worries about the future of technology. They are specific, practical fears about how these systems work today and how they might be used tomorrow.

The most common concern centers on misinformation. Many respondents worry about tools that generate confident answers without actually knowing whether those answers are true. In our data, 21% of participants raised concerns about AI producing false or misleading information. People also worry about how easily these tools could be used for manipulation with 14% mentioning malicious use by bad actors, and 12% pointing to the lack of regulation or oversight.

As respondents put it:

“Artificial meaning fake, need we say more?” - 64, Female, Hidalgo, TX

“How many instances do we see of AI providing false information? A government report used AI and was filled with nonsense.” - 29, Female, Eagle, ID

“The current implementation lies frequently with extreme confidence.” - 30, Male, Leon, FL

“AI can be trained to produce lies and fake narratives.” - 73, Male, San Francisco, CA

Another concern that surfaces often is dependence. People worry about what happens when judgment, creativity, or decision making begin to migrate from humans to machines. About 11% of people talk about people losing the ability to think critically or function independently if AI becomes too embedded in everyday life.

This is captured best by the following responses:

“It is destroying the ability to think critically about sources and research.” - 27, Male, Baltimore, MD

“It removes the need for humanity to exercise critical thinking skills.” - 43, Male, Salisbury, NC

“It will erode the users’ ability to think for themselves, making them easily manipulated.” - 70, Female, Richmond, VA

For younger Americans, these concerns are unfolding in a particular social and economic context.

This is a generation already navigating a fragile information environment. Trust in institutions is low, and the line between real and manufactured content is increasingly difficult to see. AI does not create that instability, but it amplifies it. Tools that can generate convincing text, images, and voices raise the stakes of discernment at a moment when many people already feel overwhelmed by information. In about 8% of responses, there are specific concerns about deepfakes, impersonation, and identity fraud. As one 32-year-old man put it, “Fake images, videos, and voices can be used to confuse or lie to nations.”

At the same time, young adults are entering a labor market shaped by uncertainty. Concerns about job displacement and economic disruption show up clearly in the responses. There is a recurring sense that AI may replace work faster than it supports workers, particularly for early career professionals and people in creative fields.

“[AI] takes jobs away from artists and writers. It prevents people from using critical thinking and using their own talents.” - 26, Female, Riverside, CA

“Employers will use it to replace human functions rather than passing the benefits off to employees.” - 20, Male, New York City, NY

“It has the potential to prematurely upset a jobs-based society, or prematurely bring about an apocalypse.” - 36, Male, Somerset, NJ

“I feel that it will take away jobs of my great grandchildren. Exactly what jobs will be in store for them to have if AI takes over?” - 75, Female, Glen Carbon, IL

Taken together, these responses suggest that the anxiety around AI is not only about the technology itself. It is about trust, information, work, and the pace of change in a society that already feels unstable to many people.

Final Thoughts

What’s notable is how often these worries are framed not as personal inconvenience, but as collective risk. People talk about AI changing society, reshaping opportunity, and shifting power. They are asking, implicitly: Who is this for? Who decides how it’s used? And who bears the cost when it goes wrong?

Beneath the polling numbers sit deeper questions:

• What would it look like for people to have meaningful input into how or if AI is deployed in their schools, workplaces, and communities?

• How do we build norms and guardrails that increase transparency without stifling innovation?

• How do we ensure that the potential benefits of new AI technologies do not bypass the generation most anxious about its consequences?

These are not questions engineers can answer alone. They require public deliberation, institutional trust, and civic infrastructure strong enough to hold complex tradeoffs.

Still thinking for ourselves.

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Murmuration is a non-profit that strengthens community-driven change at the local level. By equipping local organizations with powerful data, technology, and insights, Murmuration helps them amplify community voices, build collective power, and drive solutions that reflect the lived realities of the people they serve. murmuration.org

This month, Murmuration partnered with the Iowa Food Bank Association to better understand how people are experiencing food insecurity, in Iowa, neighboring states, and nationwide. Iowa is often seen as a symbol of agricultural abundance, a place that helps feed the country. But even in a state defined by food production, many households are feeling the strain of rising costs and shrinking support networks.

It is challenging and expensive. Each week I watch how much items I generally purchase increase. It’s shamefully confusing to understand what is driving the price increases. - Female, 74, Black Hawk, Iowa

Food insecurity is an everyday pressure shaping how people across the country think about their lives, community responsibility, and what government is for.

Reshaping Household Life

The rising cost of food is reshaping how Americans manage their households.

“I usually go without eating to make sure my child has everything I can do for her. This past year has been the most stressful and hardest year I’ve had.” – 36, Female, Democrat, San Bernardino, CA

Across the country, groceries are now one of the largest monthly expenses families face. Thirty percent of Americans say food is the single biggest cost in their household budget each month, second only to housing (40%).

That pressure is visible in how people shop. Nearly seven in ten Americans (69%) say they are dissatisfied with the price they pay for food and groceries, while only 12% say they are satisfied. But dissatisfaction alone doesn’t capture the scale of adjustment households are making. Rising food prices are forcing people to change both what they buy and how they spend elsewhere.

More than three-quarters of Americans say they have had to adjust their grocery purchases due to rising costs. Thirty-two percent report making major changes to the types or amounts of food they buy, while another 45% say they have made smaller changes. Only 21% say they have not had to adjust at all.

“It’s expensive and I don’t get to buy healthy food due to high prices and I don’t have enough to complete meals for the month. I have to skip several meals a week to survive.” – 45, Female, Republican, Tarrant, TX

“[We are] constantly changing where we buy certain items trying to take advantage of local specials and sales.” – 75, Male, Independent, Racine, WI

Those adjustments ripple outward. Sixty-nine percent of Americans say rising food costs have forced them to change spending in other areas of their lives, including childcare, transportation, and entertainment.

For most households, this isn’t about luxury items. It’s about constant calculation.

“Grocery shopping was one of my favorite things, now it leaves me with a feeling of dread and anxiety. I’m thankful we are able to still afford food but we can barely afford anything else. Food, rent, and utilities are killing us.” – 37, Female, Independent, Maricopa, AZ

Only one in four Americans (25%) say they can buy whatever food they want without thinking much about the cost. Most people (61%) say they can afford enough food but must be careful about what they spend. And 12% say they often do not have enough money to buy the food they need.

“We always buy loss leaders or discounted and past-dated foods when possible.” – 85, Male, Democrat, Grafton, NH

In other words, food insecurity doesn’t always show up as empty refrigerators. Often, it shows up as vigilance: reading prices carefully, switching brands, skipping certain items, or cutting back elsewhere just to keep groceries on the table.

Rising Food Insecurity

For many Americans, food insecurity is no longer something they associate with distant communities or rare hardship. It is something they recognize around them. Seventy-two percent of Americans say food insecurity is a problem in their state, including 43% who describe it as a big problem. Sixty-two percent say it is a problem in their own community, with 32% calling it a big problem locally.

These perceptions are grounded in real experiences. Over half of Americans in our survey say they have received government assistance at some point in their lives—including programs like SNAP—and many also engage with the food system through community support such as food banks.

This dual reality—people both receiving and giving help—reveals how embedded food insecurity has become in everyday civic life; woven into the social fabric of communities across the country.

Support for Solutions

Despite the complexity of the issue, one thing stands out clearly in the data: Americans broadly agree that food insecurity is a problem worth solving, and they support practical ways to address it. Across programs and across contexts, there is consensus that food assistance should exist and that it plays an important role in supporting families and communities.

At the same time, people remain uncertain about how well the systems delivering that help are working. Only 38% believe food assistance programs in their state are well run with low levels of waste or fraud, while 42% disagree and 21% say they are unsure. That gap points to a deeper tension in public opinion. Americans may support the purpose of these programs, but many remain skeptical about whether the systems behind them operate as effectively or fairly as they should.

In other words, the public is not just thinking about whether help exists—they are thinking about whether the institutions responsible for delivering it can be trusted to work.

Final Thoughts

These findings are a window into a broader American condition: rising costs, widening strain, and a growing sense that basic needs are becoming harder to guarantee.

Food insecurity is bigger than just food. It is about dignity. It is about stability. It is about whether communities can thrive when families cannot reliably meet the most fundamental need of all.

It is also about civic trust. When people see neighbors struggling, they form judgments about whether institutions are responsive. When they rely on food banks or federal programs, they develop lived opinions about how well those systems work. These experiences shape how people think about government—not in theory, but in practice.

The data leaves us with harder questions about how Americans are experiencing daily life and the systems meant to help them:

• How do everyday encounters with food banks, grocery prices, and assistance programs shape whether people believe the system works for families like theirs?

• If the public already recognizes food insecurity as a real and widespread problem—and strongly supports practical solutions—what is standing between that and meaningful action?

• And perhaps most fundamentally: when something as basic as access to food becomes uncertain, what does that do to people’s sense of security, belonging, and trust in the institutions meant to serve them?

Our data reflects a national reality: widespread dissatisfaction with food prices, broad recognition of the implications for health, hunger, and finances, and strong support for practical—and already established—solutions. Right now, the public’s clarity outpaces the political response.

Food is foundational. So is action.

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Murmuration is a non-profit that organizes a network of partners and equips them with the insights, tools, and services needed to help communities build and activate the power to transform America into a nation where everyone thrives. murmuration.org.

“It is strange to have the entire country focused on where you live, but it’s absolutely necessary, because this shit can and will happen again, and it can happen anywhere.” - 49, Male, Independent, Minneapolis, MN

Civic Pulse asked 1,231 people across Minnesota how they are experiencing their lives and these events in their own communities. When compared to the start of the year, 28% of Minnesotans say conditions have gotten worse, 33% say they’ve gotten better, and 27% say they feel about the same.

Those shifts don’t resolve into a single shared experience or storyline. The emotional landscape in Minnesota right now is layered: Anger and division are prominent, yet they coexist with resilience, determination, and support.

The graphic above is an overview of how people describe this moment in their community. Each circle represents an emotion people selected. The size of the circle reflects how many people chose that word. The lines between circles show how often those emotions were selected together by the same respondents. Thicker lines mean those feelings commonly co-occur. In other words, this chart doesn’t show separate camps of emotion. It shows how feelings overlap.

What Minnesotans told us points to something more complex than a simple political or partisan reaction. What we found was a state navigating strain, uncertainty–and solidarity–in real time.

The View From Here

Civic Pulse asked what feels misunderstood about this moment in Minnesota and what people outside the state most need to understand about their lives right now. The context is important: large numbers of people are not only following events closely, but have been personally impacted by the federal immigration activity.

Several themes surfaced again and again: safety concerns, frustration with media narratives, and nuanced views about enforcement and limits.

Here is how Minnesotans put it, in their own words:

“People need to understand that people who are citizens have been afraid to leave their homes.” - 50, Female, Democrat, Minneapolis, MN

“The ICE officers are going basically door to door and do not give a hoot about anything [except] to get immigrants regardless if they’re legal or not. I am for illegal [immigrants] to be deported but to harass legal ones is insane”. - 32, Male, Republican, Shakopee, MN

“Support your community, support your local law enforcement and keep it peaceful.” - 57, Male, Independent, Inver Grove Heights, MN

“Government is seeking retaliation on democratic states… Minnesota is filled with wonderful people.” - 70, Female, Republican, Pierz, MN

“If it was only dangerous criminals being deported we would be fine. They are deporting and targeting individuals based on skin tone and that’s not okay… Just stay organized and positive, we will get through this together. Also, make sure to stay peaceful.” - 31, Female, Democrat, St. Louis Park, MN

“This is not about being a Republican or Democrat. It is about due process for all.” - 35, Male, Republican, Burnsville, MN

“There’s a lot of hate, and I think much of it is based on misinformation.” - 53, Female, Independent, Detroit Lakes, MN

And amid the tension, many people told us they are seeing something else too—neighbors stepping up to organize and respond.

When Neighbors Become Leaders

Across political lines, respondents described ordinary people doing small, steady things: checking in, arranging rides, showing up at gatherings, sharing information, standing watch, keeping the peace. And many agree that people are mobilizing and coming together at the community level.

As one woman from Wrenshall put it:

Although our citizens have been abused and threatened, we have become stronger as a community because we had to. - 53, Female, Democrat, Wrenshall, MN

Before turning to more of their words, three numbers help frame what’s happening beneath the headlines:

That combination is striking. Even amid anger and division, more than half are witnessing acts of care—and nearly half believe something lasting could grow from it.

Here’s how they described who is stepping up:

“Kids, elderly, neighbors” - 34, Female, Independent, Minneapolis, MN

“Local people who have no political experience” - 32, Female, Republican, Cold Spring, MN

“Everyday housewives from the burbs are putting themselves in danger to protect others.” - 43, Male, Democrat, Plymouth, MN

“I see local law enforcement do a great job.” - 48, Male, Republican, St. Cloud, MN

“I noticed that a lot of small businesses and restaurants have stepped up a lot” - 31, Female, Democrat, St. Louis Park, MN

And when people talk about what care and support actually look like on the ground, the details become even more tangible:

“Providing a warm place for protesters to warm with some hot chocolate and treats....and rallying together to fight for the rights of innocent lives. Truly touching to witness.” - 51, Female, Independent, Saint Paul, MN

“We brought food and diapers to a family who’s been affected and can’t work” - 55, Male, Republican, Farmington, MN

“My church delivers meals to people who don’t want to leave home.” - 39, Female, Democrat, Rochester, MN

“My children’s school’s social worker drives a young girl to and from school because she is too afraid of riding the bus because of her and her family’s race and how parents have been detained at the stop.” - 33, Female, Independent, Blaine, MN

Taken together, these examples are not abstract. They are practical. Local. Often quiet. In a moment defined by national attention, much of the response is happening at the block, school, church, and storefront level—neighbor to neighbor.

Final Thoughts

In Minnesotans’ own words, what we heard over these two weeks is not a single narrative but a portrait of a community navigating tension and care at the same time. People described fear and vigilance, but also solidarity. They described division, but also neighbors showing up for one another. This moment feels unsettled, and its long-term impact is still unfolding.

One man from Lake Elmo put it this way:

“They are focusing on only the conflict. Officials on both sides should be working together to solve the crisis, not further division.” - 38, Male, Republican

His words reflect something we heard repeatedly: Many Minnesotans want less escalation and more problem-solving. And this moment should leave all of us with questions:

• How do we create more pathways for everyday leadership in our communities, not just in moments of emergency?

• How can communities of support and organizing continue to persevere and sustain longer-term efforts?

• And can national conversations hold space for complexity rather than flattening lived experience into partisan shorthand?

If we want to understand the civic health of this country, we have to listen at the community level. Not only to what people believe, but to what they feel. And one thing we heard over and over again was captured by this woman from Inver Grove Heights:

“If [people] think these things can’t happen in their own cities, they are dead wrong.” - 43, Female, Independent, Inver Grove Heights, MN

Elevating community voices.

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Murmuration is a non-profit that organizes a network of partners and equips them with the insights, tools, and services needed to help communities build and activate the power to transform America into a nation where everyone thrives. murmuration.org.

Nations, like relationships, are tested in the same way.

In the last few weeks, our State of Us work has focused on a harder truth. Americans feel deeply divided, and increasingly unsure that we’re moving toward a better future at all. Together, our findings point to a country where people are alarmed by what they see happening around them, yet still deeply invested in one another and in the ideas of kindness and empathy.

So we asked Americans to look ahead and tell us what they hope might improve, and what they fear may lie ahead. This is what they said, for better or worse.

For Better

When people talk about what they hope will improve this year, they are most often reaching for something emotional rather than institutional. The single most common hope is not about policy or finances, but about how people treat one another. More than one in five respondents (23%) expressed hope for less hate, more kindness, greater empathy, and a sense that people might find ways to coexist more peacefully. In a moment defined by polarization and fatigue, many are yearning for emotional relief and social repair—less anger in public life, fewer divisions in everyday interactions, and a softer tone overall.

Economic hopes come next, but they are strikingly personal. Nearly one in five people (19%) focused on personal finances and the hope that everyday costs like groceries, gas, and rent become more manageable, or that the cost of living eases its grip. A similar share (16%) spoke more broadly about the economy, referencing inflation, interest rates, the stock market, or national debt. Together, these responses suggest that optimism is closely tied to financial breathing room: people aren’t necessarily imagining abundance, but stability, predictability, and a sense that things won’t keep getting harder.

Politics also surfaces as a source of hope for a meaningful group of people (15%). These responses are less about enthusiasm and more about resolution including hopes for calmer governance, better leadership, functional policymaking, or simply an end to constant political turmoil. A smaller but notable group explicitly expressed hope tied to opposition to the current administration (7%), reflecting a desire for change, accountability, or limits on executive power rather than confidence in any single alternative.

Beyond the most common themes, a long tail of smaller, more diffuse hopes rounds out how people imagine things getting better. Some respondents are looking beyond U.S. borders, expressing hope for de-escalation abroad, an end to ongoing wars, or more stable global relations (7%). Others talk about safer communities and less violence (6%), progress on immigration (5.0%), greater protection of civil rights (4%), and improvements in healthcare access (4%). Far fewer respondents named housing, climate, education, or technology, but their presence still reflects a broad and interconnected view of what “getting better” could mean.

For Worse

When people talk about what they fear could get worse this year, their concerns shift outward and upward—from interpersonal strain to large-scale instability. The most common fear centers on political conflict:

Nearly one in five respondents (18%) worry about international matters like escalating wars, widening global unrest, or deteriorating foreign relations. These responses often carry a sense of powerlessness, reflecting anxiety about forces far beyond individual control and the possibility that global violence could intensify rather than resolve.

An identical share (18%) have fears about politics at home. They anticipate worsening political dysfunction including deepening polarization, policy failures, democratic backsliding, or further erosion of trust in government. For many, the concern is not just disagreement but a sense that the political system itself may become more chaotic, punitive, or unresponsive.

Economic anxiety remains central, but again appears in both personal and national forms. About 15% fear their personal financial situation will deteriorate, citing rising costs, stagnant wages, or growing precarity, while 14% worry more broadly about the economy (e.g. recession, inflation, debt, or market instability). Together, these responses suggest a pervasive fear that financial strain may intensify, leaving households with even less margin for error.

Violence also looms with nearly 12% of people worrying about increased violence, declining public safety, or the prevalence of guns. These fears are often rooted in concerns about crime, mass violence, or a general sense that everyday spaces feel less safe.

A smaller but still notable share expresses fear that social and emotional conditions will worsen. About 8% worry about rising hatred, anger, or cruelty, suggesting concern that social norms around empathy and coexistence may continue to erode. Others fear rollbacks in civil rights (6%), harsher immigration enforcement or deportations (6%), negative outcomes tied to opposition to the current administration (6%), environmental and climate deterioration (3%), housing instability (2%), worsening healthcare access (2%), job insecurity (2%), protests and unrest (2%), unchecked technological change like AI (1%), and declines in education or faith in institutions. While each is named by relatively few individuals, together they convey a diffuse sense that multiple systems could fray at once.

Final Thoughts

Reading these responses side by side, one thing becomes clear. People haven’t lost the capacity to hope. They’ve lost confidence that hope will be protected.

Hopes for the year ahead are modest, human, and close to home. They’re hoping for less pressure, less anger, fewer shocks and a world that feels a little more livable than it does right now. Fears, by contrast, are sharper and more structural. They cluster around escalation rather than improvement: widening wars, deepening political dysfunction, rising costs, growing violence, and eroding rights.

The imbalance is telling. It suggests that while people still believe things could get better, they are far less convinced that the forces shaping their lives are moving in that direction. This raises deeper questions about:

• Are people who fear systemic collapse still willing to invest in local efforts?

• Do people see emotional repair as a precondition for political repair?

• At what point does financial insecurity start to reshape people’s expectations of democracy, fairness, or government responsibility?

What comes next depends on whether people believe that our future can be made, protected, and sustained.

Love, tested by reality

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Murmuration is a non-profit that organizes a network of partners and equips them with the insights, tools, and services needed to help communities build and activate the power to transform America into a nation where everyone thrives. murmuration.org

At the same time, education is not experienced as a standalone issue. It is crowded into the same political and economic space as every other pressure people are carrying right now. When voters think about their lives, they are thinking about grocery bills, rent, childcare, healthcare, crime, and jobs. Schools matter deeply, but they are competing with a long list of urgent concerns that feel immediate and relentless.

Young people, in particular, offer a revealing lens into this tension. Looking at education through their eyes helps clarify why it matters and why it so often gets crowded out.

Education as a Voting Issue

As important as education is to many, it is rarely the single defining issue driving vote choice. A very small share of voters (9%) say it is their top issue. Most (64%) call it very important but stop short of calling it their top issue. For the rest, it falls even further down the priority list.

This pattern reflects a broader reality: education matters, but it is competing in a crowded field of urgent concerns. People do not separate schools from the rest of their lives, and they evaluate them alongside the pressures shaping their day-to-day experience.

For young voters, this dynamic is especially pronounced. Gen Z is navigating high costs of living, student debt, and a volatile labor market. Education is not just about schools in the abstract; it is about whether learning, credentials, and job training will actually translate into financial stability.

That said, economic issues offer a bridge to education as a voting issue. Americans overwhelmingly agree that education and job training are among the best paths to financial stability. For many families—and especially for younger adults—education is fundamentally about whether the next generation will be able to build a secure life at all.

Education as Community Stability

When we ask people directly about local schools, most Americans (71%) say the quality of schools in their community is very important to them. And, across generations, people describe schools as anchors of community life—places that reduce stress for families, support opportunity, and create the conditions for long-term flourishing.

That belief, especially amongst young people, comes through clearly in broad agreement with statements like:

For Gen Z, these ideas land with particular force. Young adults are more likely than older Americans to strongly endorse the view that education shapes economic outcomes, community stability, and the future health of society. In their own words:

“Schools can help uplift students and help them become productive members of society.” – 28, Male, Democrat, Ohio

“Better schools produce more well-rounded adults. If those adults stay in the community then the community succeeds. Also, people struggle to read information critically and do research in today’s society. A more educated populace is one with more critical thinking skills.” – 29, Female, Democrat, Kentucky

Final Thoughts

Education remains one of the clearest shared aspirations Americans have. But it is also increasingly experienced as part of a broader struggle: the struggle to stay afloat, to raise children in a stable environment, and to believe that the future can still be better than the present.

All of this points to some larger questions about schools, stability, and community life:

• How might our local conversations about schools change if we started with the pressures people are facing first, like affordability, safety, and economic insecurity?

• How much of our economic anxiety is really an education anxiety, about whether the next generation will be able to build a secure life?

• What kinds of investments in schools today would prevent the biggest problems communities are worried about tomorrow?

The question is not whether Americans care about schools. They do. The question is whether we can speak about education in a way that meets people where they are, in the full reality of their lives.

Report card: we have work to do.

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This research was supported by the Walton Family Foundation, which has funded Murmuration’s Gen Z research efforts since 2021. Learn more about our ongoing research partnership and findings on the youngest generation of voters here.

Murmuration is a non-profit that organizes a network of partners and equips them with the insights, tools, and services needed to help communities build and activate the power to transform America into a nation where everyone thrives. murmuration.org.

And yet, if there is one thing Americans across the spectrum seem to share, it is this: a deep desire to move beyond polarization, a sense that the country is falling short of its values, and a growing alarm over the division that surrounds politics today.

Those feelings can be isolating. But they are not rare. As we have learned through Civic Pulse, many Americans describe a political climate defined by tension, uncertainty, and instability. So, the question now is not simply what we may or may not still have in common. It is whether disagreement itself has begun to feel like something more dangerous: a source of fear, hostility, and social fracture.

Commonality Beneath Conflict

Americans are not naïve about how divided the country feels right now. Most people recognize that political differences run deep, with 74% of Americans saying that the country is “deeply divided by different fundamental values.” Only 16% believe that “Americans mostly share the same fundamental values.”

That sense of division is not abstract. Nearly seven in ten Americans describe the country today as either completely or mostly divided, with only about one in four seeing the nation as mostly united.

And yet, something else emerges alongside this bleak diagnosis.

Even as Americans acknowledge the depth of political conflict, many still resist the idea that politics has erased everything we share. When asked to think about Americans they disagree with politically, nearly half (49%) say: “We mostly have things in common as Americans, despite our political differences.” Only 29% take the more fatalistic view that political differences have left no common ground at all. In other words, by a wide margin (+20pp), people continue to believe that there is more connecting us than separating us.

This belief in commonality is not confined to one party. A majority of Republicans (57%) say Americans mostly have things in common, as do pluralities of Democrats (44%) and Independents (45%). Still, the gap is worth noticing. The sense of shared ground is less secure among Democrats and Independents—a signal that even if Americans want unity, many are less confident it is still within reach.

And that uncertainty matters, because the consequences of division are not only cultural or rhetorical. Increasingly, Americans describe the political climate not just as frustrating, but as destabilizing and something that shapes how stable and safe the future feels.

Politics as a Source of Fear

In a year that already feels uneven, it is perhaps not surprising that so many Americans are bracing for disruption. And yet, it is still startling to see it in the numbers.

A majority of Americans say they are very (22%) or somewhat (30%) worried that “something unexpected could significantly disrupt their life this year”. When people name what they fear most, many share concerns that are financial (42%): losing a job, rising costs, or other economic risk factors.

The second most prevalent set of worries, however, is political (39% of people). Americans express fears about domestic unrest, government abuse, and even the possibility of civil war or international conflict.

“A civil war or a world war. Domestic conflicts are rising and seem to be ramping up more than regressing.” - 27, Male, Independent, West Des Moines, Iowa

“Political unrest within our country” – 62, Female, Republican, Bucks, PA

“I’m seriously worried that one of my children will join protests and be murdered.” - 46, Female, Independent, Peoria, IL,

“War, unlawfulness from Americans in our country against each other.” - 68, Female, Democrat, Salem, Oregon

What is striking is how quickly these political fears move from the abstract to the personal. For many Americans, politics is no longer something happening “out there,” but something that shapes whether the country feels secure.

In fact, about half of Americans (53%) say they feel threatened or unsafe as a result of current politics in the United States: 39% feel somewhat threatened or unsafe and 14% feel very threatened or unsafe. This rises sharply among Democrats (+37pp) compared to Republicans, though notably over a third of Republicans (34%) share the feeling.

Even more unsettling, Americans (80%) are very concerned that other people may be threatened or unsafe due to current politics. The gap here is telling. Americans demonstrating care for others are far more likely to perceive danger facing their fellow citizens than to describe themselves as directly unsafe. Even those who feel relatively secure are alert to the broader political atmosphere and attentive to what others may be experiencing.

Final Thoughts

What these findings suggest is not that Americans have lost interest in one another, or even that they have fully lost faith in the possibility of shared ground. The deeper problem is that they also sense something more destabilizing: that the systems meant to help us navigate disagreement are instead intensifying it.

The result is a country on alert—less confident that conflict can be resolved peacefully, less trusting that institutions will act responsibly, and more worried about what the political climate is doing to the safety and cohesion of everyday life.

At the same time, these are not the only forces shaping civic life. In many places, community has become an important antidote to the fear and threat that so often defines politics right now and serves a reminder that civic life is not only about conflict, but also about care and shared responsibility. Across the country, people continue to show up for one another in practical, grounded ways: organizing mutual aid and GoFundMes for rent assistance, forming local huddles to help neighbors navigate legal or medical needs, connecting at-risk families with food donations, offering rides to school or work, and stepping in when institutions feel distant or unreliable. These everyday acts do not erase division, but they offer something real alongside it: evidence that many Americans are still invested in each other, and that community can still serve as a source of stability.

With that in mind, as we consider how to restore trust in each other and confidence in the future of the country, we ask:

• How do we show up (or continue to show up) for one another in communities where so many feel anxious, threatened, or unsafe?

• Under what conditions could civic life feel stable, lawful, and safe again, especially for those who feel most vulnerable?

• Can we build a civic life and political culture where disagreement does not create more division?

Understanding how Americans are experiencing division and fear, in this moment, is a step toward figuring out what it would take to move forward together.

Fear travels fast. So can care.

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Murmuration is a non-profit that organizes a network of partners and equips them with the insights, tools, and services needed to help communities build and activate the power to transform America into a nation where everyone thrives. murmuration.org.

It would be easy to observe that most Americans are dissatisfied with the direction of the country and leave it at that. After all, dissatisfaction with where the country is headed has been a near-constant feature of American public opinion for the past two decades.

But a wider look at the American mood going into 2026 reveals something more complicated. While many Americans are angry and scared about the way things are going in the United States today, others feel hopeful, excited, and proud. The country is not experiencing a single shared emotional reality.

Even more striking, Americans are acutely aware of this divide itself. Across the political spectrum, people describe the country as too polarized, political debate as more intense than it needs to be, and communities as pulled apart by news cycles and social media rather than held together by shared values or everyday concerns.

The Emotional Divide

When asked to describe how they feel about the way things are going in the United States today, about a quarter of Americans say they feel angry, with another 14% describing themselves as depressed and 13% as scared. These emotions are especially concentrated among Democrats, whose anger has climbed steadily over the past year, rising from 31% at the start of 2025 to 41% today.

At the same time, hopefulness remains a central part of the national mood. Eighteen percent of Americans say they feel hopeful about the country’s direction, making it the second most common response overall. Smaller but meaningful shares say they feel excited (7%), proud (6%), or satisfied (5%). Among Republicans, 37% primarily describe their feelings as hopeful, alongside 17% of Independents, levels that have remained largely unchanged throughout the past year.

The single largest shift in Americans’ mood came in September, following the assassination of Charlie Kirk. Republicans responded with a surge in anger and a noticeable drop in the share saying they felt proud or excited about the direction of the country. Independents and Democrats, by contrast, were more likely to describe feeling scared, overwhelmed, or depressed. Across groups, the violence registered less as a partisan moment and more as a signal that political conflict in the country had crossed a line.

A Call for a Less Polarized America

Even with all the stress Americans carry in their daily lives around money, family, and health, it is politics and polarization that most often show up when people explain why they are dissatisfied with the direction of the country. Americans describe polarization as something that shows up in their relationships, their media consumption, and their sense of safety.

What stands out most in these responses is a shared exhaustion with political conflict and an awareness of polarization itself as a problem. Throughout 2025, mentions of polarization and division spiked following episodes of political violence, clashes with protesters, and what were seen as incendiary remarks from politicians.

Notably, concern about division does not disappear among those who feel satisfied or optimistic about the country’s direction. Even supporters of the current administration frequently describe polarization as a problem that weakens community cohesion and makes it harder to move forward together.

Across perspectives, people want to believe that disagreement can happen without tipping into hostility or fear. They worry that differences have become too entrenched, that people are being pushed toward the extremes, and that politics has shifted from problem-solving to taking sides. Americans may disagree deeply about leadership and policy, but many share a sense that constant escalation between people with opposing beliefs is making the country harder to live in. And for many, there is a conviction underneath it all: it does not have to be this way.

Final Thoughts

One year in, the country is not experiencing a dramatic shift in how people feel about its direction. Instead, it is living with a persistent, uneven emotional landscape, alongside a shared sense that Americans are more divided than they should be. Polarization, in this context, is not an abstract political condition. It is a lived social reality that shapes how people relate to one another and how much energy they have to keep engaging.

As we reflect on this last year, several questions stand out.

• How can community engagement help rebuild a sense of togetherness and shared purpose?

• How do we shift our emotional focus back toward our own communities, rather than constantly reacting to what we see in the news?

• And what can Americans do locally to break out of the isolation and division they say they dislike about national politics today?

Across perspectives, the political climate is described as exhausting. Rhetoric feels sharper, communities feel more divided, and the result for many is a mix of fear and anger. Americans are not asking to agree on everything. They are asking to trust that disagreement does not have to tear communities apart.

Community is the way forward.

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Murmuration is a non-profit that organizes a network of partners and equips them with the insights, tools, and services needed to help communities build and activate the power to transform America into a nation where everyone thrives. murmuration.org.

Last spring, we published an initial snapshot of Americans’ stress, trying to name the “weight we’re carrying” behind closed doors while still showing up to work, school, family dinners, and community life. The goal at the time was simple: make the private texture of stress visible, and create a baseline we could return to.

Since then, Murmuration’s Civic Pulse has invited more than 150,000 people to describe, in their own words, what causes stress in their lives. Reading through those responses is a humbling exercise, especially when you pause to imagine what they represent at scale:

When almost four-in-ten of Americans say finances are a major source of stress, that translates to roughly one hundred million people worrying about bills, debt, rent, groceries, or whether their money will stretch far enough.

When nearly two-in-ten Americans are dealing with physical or mental health challenges, that is fifty million people managing symptoms, treatment decisions, insurance coverage, and the uncertainty of not knowing how their health will hold up day to day.

When more than one-in-ten say they are caring for aging parents or relatives, that is tens of millions of people managing health systems, appointments, and emotional labor alongside everything else.

So here we are returning to the data on stress to understand which parts of our experience reflect short-term strain, and which point to something more durable.

The Constant Stress of Daily Life

Over the past year, Americans’ overall stress levels have remained remarkably consistent. Month after month, the share of people reporting little, moderate, or high stress barely moves, even as events, seasons, and headlines change. There are small fluctuations at the margins, but the general pattern remains:

When you actually listen to what people are facing in their daily lives, you immediately discover that stress is rarely singular. People are not just worried about money or work or health. They are worried about money and work and caregiving and time and the interaction between them. Some respondents listed five or six separate worries. More than a thousand wrote just one word: everything.

Unequivocally, one source of stress stands apart from the rest: money.

Across 2025, 36% of Americans cite financial strain as a stressor and it remains about double the next most common concern, jobs and career at 18%. Financial strain is mentioned more often than family relationships (17%), physical health (11%), and mental health (6%) combined. The ranking is familiar (see prior post), but the persistence matters. Financial pressure is steady and sets the emotional baseline for daily life.

But financial stress is not evenly distributed. It follows a steep and unforgiving gradient.

Among those who describe their level of financial comfort as struggling, 61% say financial strain is a source of stress. For those getting by, that figure drops to 40%. Among people who describe themselves as comfortable, it falls to 16%, and among the prosperous, just 7%.

The difference is not subtle. It is the difference between money being one concern among many and money being the frame through which everything else is experienced.

That same financial divide is also apparent in how intensely people experience stress. The majority of people (79%) who are financially struggling report experiencing a moderate or great deal of stress in their lives. Among those who are comfortable, that share is closer to a third (31%), and among the prosperous, it drops to less than a quarter (22%). Financial strain is not just more common at lower income levels; it is heavier, more constant, and harder to compartmentalize.

One individual summed it up succinctly:

“The prices of everything have gone up drastically.... My wages are the same. The math does not math.” – 53, female, Box Elder, South Dakota

The Acute Stress of the Moment

Across every month, certain stressors never drop out of view: financial strain, work pressure, family responsibilities, and health concerns. But one of the advantages of asking people, in their own words, what’s stressing them is that it also lets us see how stress moves with the world.

Early in 2025, stress language was shaped by national politics and prominent news stories. February sees a spike around Elon Musk and related political references, which quickly gives way in March and April to concerns about the economy, costs, markets, tariffs, and the stock market. By late spring and summer, global events show up: spikes in world and war language in June align with international instability and conflict entering the news cycle. In the fall, stress sharpens again around governance and institutional uncertainty. October is marked by a clear rise in references to a government shutdown, followed by renewed concern about finances and family strain, including economic uncertainty. Now, at the start of 2026, stress language is reflecting attention to immigration enforcement, global unrest, and ongoing geopolitical conflict and other issues that dominate headlines and signal institutional action, uncertainty, or disruption.

What is perhaps most striking, though, is who stresses about global or national concerns versus daily life. For roughly three in four people, stress remains rooted in daily concerns, and only a small minority (9%) frame it in political terms. But this stress isn't evenly distributed. Those who report being financially comfortable or prosperous are more likely (+5pp) to name global or national concerns, while those struggling or getting by are more likely (+8pp) to point to daily pressures. This concentration of stress on daily financial concerns makes a difference; financial comfort is one of the strongest ways to predict engagement in civic life.

Final Thoughts

Seen this way, the data offer a grounding reminder as we head into a new year. Stress is not evenly distributed, but it is widespread. At any given moment, a large share of the country is carrying something heavy, whether or not it is visible from the outside. That reality does not excuse harm or erase responsibility, but it does call for a baseline of empathy in how we approach one another and the expectations we set for public life.

It also raises a set of increasingly urgent questions:

• What does civic and community life look like when financial strain sets the emotional baseline for so many people?

• How should institutions design participation, support, and engagement when large segments of the public are operating under chronic stress?

• And what would change if fewer Americans were living with the constant sense that one disruption could tip everything out of balance?

The data suggest a country that is carrying a great deal, and that has been carrying it for some time.

The stress persists. So do we.

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Murmuration is a non-profit that organizes a network of partners and equips them with the insights, tools, and services needed to help communities build and activate the power to transform America into a nation where everyone thrives. murmuration.org

And now it is January, the month when millions of people decide this will be the year they finally get healthier. They set goals, make plans, and try to take better care of themselves. But those resolutions unfold inside a system that often feels unpredictable, expensive, and harder to navigate than it should be. Civic Pulse data gives us a clear look at that reality.

Views on Our Health

To understand the full story, we start with how people feel in their own bodies and what they see when they step into the healthcare system. The good news is that most Americans say their health is at least okay. About half rate their health as good or excellent, while only a small share describe it as poor. The rest live in that familiar middle ground where you are not unwell, but you are also not thriving.

Access also looks surprisingly functional on paper. About 72% say it is easy for them to get the care they need, whether somewhat or very easy. And 66% say the quality of their available care is good or excellent. If this were the whole picture, you might assume the system is steady and reliable.

But people’s lived experiences tell a different story. Even those in good health talk about uncertainty: long waits for appointments, rushed visits, opaque billing, and the sense that the quality of care depends too much on luck and geography. Beneath it all is a steady worry that the system won’t be there when they truly need it. And more than anything, they talk about cost. That tension comes into sharp focus when we look at access by financial comfort.

And unmistakable in the data: people notice how the healthcare system treats them as consumers, not patients. In the open responses, one person put it bluntly: “Quit trying to make so much money from healthcare.” Another said they would trust the system more “if the CEOs did not get millions in bonuses.” Others wished for “a system that is less concerned with money and more with actual health.” These quotes reflect a sense that the system’s motivations are misaligned with people’s needs.

The Price Tag Is the Crisis

Money has become the first filter through which people interpret their health. Nearly half of Americans do not feel confident they could afford the care they would need if they or a family member became seriously ill. That includes people with insurance. It includes people who say their health is good. It includes people who otherwise feel stable.

So it tracks that when we asked people which health policy issue should be the nation’s top priority, 54% chose lowering healthcare costs. Nothing else came close. Not mental health, not insurance expansion, not reproductive rights, not opioids, not pandemic preparedness. Cost dominates everything.

This financial fear affects how people approach every decision. When we ask about barriers to staying healthy 20% of people directly mention affordability. When you read what they say, cost influences when they seek care, how long they wait, whether they fill prescriptions, and how they plan for the future.

But the cost crisis is not limited to hospitals or insurance. A third of people who cited affordability as their top barrier specifically mentioned food costs. Women, particularly those over 30, were far more likely to name groceries as a hurdle. This expands the picture of “healthcare costs” to something much broader: people feel financially squeezed not just when they’re sick, but when they try to stay well.

Trust Is Fractured

The third part of the story is about trust: who people listen to, who they ignore, and how they navigate an information environment that feels increasingly chaotic.

When it comes to guidance on something as basic as childhood vaccines, people scatter across a wide range of sources. Doctors are still the anchor, with 52% turning to their pediatrician or primary care provider. Pharmacists come next at 21%. Friends and family follow at 20%. Institutional public health sources like the CDC, WHO, or local health departments draw only 15–19%. And 7% turn to social media or influencers. The sharpest contrast appears once you break the data out by education level a clear shift in how much weight people place on expert opinions.

But across the board, over the last year “messages around vaccines, pregnancy, and women’s health” decreased trust in public health institutions for 38% of people (up to 44% for college graduates) and increased trust for only 8%.

The open responses show a deeper rupture: people increasingly see trust as something earned through relationships, not institutions. Two-thirds say they rely most on a healthcare professional—usually their own doctor—for guidance. Only 8% say they primarily trust public health institutions, and nearly as many say they trust “no one” or “myself.” Younger adults, in particular, lean on friends and family over experts. This signals a shift from institutional trust to interpersonal trust: people believe people.

Final Thoughts

At the heart of all this is a simple truth. Americans want to be well. They want to care for their families, protect their communities, and trust that the system will catch them when something goes wrong. But they are navigating rising costs, shifting messages, and an information landscape that keeps pulling their attention in different directions.

And when we asked what keeps them from being healthier, the answers revealed something both intimate and structural: people are tired. A quarter cited low motivation or energy. Nearly as many pointed to lack of time. These are more signals of a population stretched too thin.

This leaves us with a few questions:

• What would it take for people to feel financially safe within the healthcare system?

• How does trust get rebuilt when the information environment is fractured?

• And how do communities maintain their health when so much of the burden has shifted onto individuals who already feel stretched thin?

What Americans reveal here is not a lack of resilience, but a longing for a system that matches the effort they put into caring for themselves and the people they love.

Until next time, stay well.

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Murmuration is a non-profit that organizes a network of partners and equips them with the insights, tools, and services needed to help communities build and activate the power to transform America into a nation where everyone thrives. murmuration.org

Most Read Stories

• Running on Empty: A data-driven look at burnout as a civic issue, showing how chronic fatigue and emotional depletion are limiting people’s capacity to engage, care, and take part in community life.

• Personal and Public Power: A reflection on how people understand their own agency—from the private choices that shape their lives to the public decisions that shape their local communities—and why bridging the two is essential for a healthy democracy and participation.

• Struggling in America: A portrait of the emotional and economic strain shaping daily life, revealing how stress, instability, and exhaustion erode trust, agency, and civic engagement in America.

• None of the Above: A look at the growing number of Americans who feel politically homeless, disconnected from the choices in front of them yet still deeply invested in shaping a better future.

• Where the Story Lives in collaboration with Deep South Today: A deep dive into how local narratives, histories, and lived experiences shape civic identity and why listening to communities on their own terms is essential for understanding America today.

• Common Ground Across America: that provides a hopeful scan of the concerns, both big and small, where Americans are finding shared experience, shared worries, and unexpected alignment beneath the noise of polarization.

• Financial Stress Is a Civic Divide: A revealing look at how financial comfort quietly shapes who gets to participate in civic life, showing how bandwidth creates a growing participation gap that tilts our democracy toward those with the most financial stability.

• The Quiet Strength of Community: A reminder that even in a fractured moment, people continue showing up for one another in small, powerful ways that quietly sustain the fabric of civic life.

• Who Is Talking About ‘Democracy’ in 2025: How the word “democracy” has become a marker of stress for a specific slice of Americans (older, whiter, more educated) revealing a divide over who still sees the system as theirs to lose and who never felt included in it to begin with.

• Vanishing Third Spaces in collaboration with FWIW: An exploration of what happens when the “in-between places” that once anchored belonging disappear and how their absence reshapes connection, identity, and community participation.

Final Thoughts

Thank you for reading, sharing, and showing up this year—with curiosity, with questions, and with care. This year will bring new data, new stories, and new reasons to stay hopeful about the state of us (pun intended).

So, as we sign off for after an extended winter break, here’s what we’re thinking about:

• What stories aren’t being told about civic life in towns, rural places, or among the engaged?

• What happens when we stop chasing polarization and start promoting unity instead?

• Are there other quiet signals we should be paying attention to that help shape how people actually live, trust, and participate?

• Where are people already building solutions in small, local ways that hint at a different kind of future?

See you again in 2026!

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Murmuration is a non-profit that strengthens community-driven change at the local level. By equipping local organizations with powerful data, technology, and insights, Murmuration helps them amplify community voices, build collective power, and drive solutions that reflect the lived realities of the people they serve. murmuration.org

Politics works a lot like that too. Oftentimes when people talk about “what America needs,” the answers sound enormous: reform, revolution, systems change. But when you actually ask people what their community needs to make daily life easier, the answers are:

These aren’t demands for radical overhaul or political grandstanding. They’re reminders that so much of what makes life livable happens within a few miles of home.

The List

So this season, our wish for you isn’t just another thing to unwrap. It’s a moment to experience something else: the words of 9,158 Americans across the country, telling us what they “wished their community had that would make daily life easier”. It’s the present we open every day when we read stories, full of quiet wisdom and common ground, captured in Civic Pulse.

And, our hope is that you feel what we do when you read them…that so much of this country is more united than divided, more solvable than impossible, and filled with more humanity than the headlines would have you believe.

Final Thoughts

When you listen closely, you start to hear the simplicity of what people are asking for—not more, but enough. Enough safety. Enough kindness. Enough stability to build a life on.

What’s striking isn’t how divided the answers are, but how repetitive they are. Thousands of people, in wildly different places, describe the same missing pieces: a steady job, affordable groceries, working transportation, a safe place for kids, and a sense of connection.

As we wrap up 2025, here our some of our questions to hold:

• What would make your community’s daily life just a little easier?

• What’s one small thing that could make a big difference where you live?

• And what if thriving doesn’t take a miracle but just day-in-day-out effort?

The takeaway isn’t that our problems are small. It’s that they’re specific. Tangible. Local. Things we can actually do something about.

Addressed to you, from all of us. Happy Holidays.

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Murmuration is a non-profit that strengthens community-driven change at the local level. By equipping local organizations with powerful data, technology, and insights, Murmuration helps them amplify community voices, build collective power, and drive solutions that reflect the lived realities of the people they serve. murmuration.org

We encourage you to visit https://research.murmuration.org/hope-2025 to access our data interactive that allows you to explore how Americans describe their hope for their future and how it shifts across age, race, gender, income, and political identity.

As you’ll see in the updated chart above, hope sits higher than every other emotional marker we track. Hope might be quiet but it’s also durable, and it keeps pointing us toward possibility.

Final Thoughts

Hope doesn’t come from nowhere. It grows out of relationships, trust, and the small acts that make life feel possible again. It’s both emotional and practical and a resource as vital to civic health as time, money, or infrastructure.

So, as we think about what it means to strengthen democracy, maybe we start with the emotional scaffolding that allows people to care in the first place.

A few questions linger for us:

• What sustains your sense of hope, even when the future feels uncertain?

• How do we make hope a shared practice rather than a private feeling?

• What would it look like to design civic life not just around power, but around possibility?

• And how can we make sure the people holding onto hope aren’t doing it alone?

Letting hope have the final word.

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Murmuration is a non-profit that strengthens community-driven change at the local level. By equipping local organizations with powerful data, technology, and insights, Murmuration helps them amplify community voices, build collective power, and drive solutions that reflect the lived realities of the people they serve. murmuration.org

In this spirit, right before the November elections, we asked people two questions that you might expect to lead to similar answers:

When you sit down with family or friends and talk about what’s happening in your lives, what everyday concerns have come up in conversation lately?

As we head into elections this November, which issue(s) are most important to you when deciding how to vote?

They often don’t. But, the real surprise is just how similar Americans sound when they’re talking about their lives.

A Snapshot of Shared Concerns

People talk about all sorts of things in Civic Pulse and it’s often more than any one static chart could ever neatly hold. We’ve narrowed the visual below to a few key themes not because the others (politics, school, religion, environment, etc.) don’t matter, but because these four topics are the places where there’s far more partisan unity than you might expect.

One more caveat on the Sankey diagram below: the categories aren’t mutually exclusive. When someone says, “Money is really tight, so we can’t afford to go to the doctor,” that is reflected as both a money concern and a health concern. In practice, that gives us 9,187 respondents but 16,964 flow lines on the diagram. We are comfortable with that because real life doesn’t fit into a single box and neither do the worries people share.

If you just watched the GIF of the Sankey shift across parties, you’ll see that many issues are shared both around the kitchen table and, often, even in the voting booth. So what actually changes when we vote?

It’s not that people stop caring about what affects them. It’s that so often the political system doesn’t give them a way to vote for those things—only to vote around them or against them. When you read the responses, everyday worry about affording a doctor’s visit gets translated into “Medicare expansion” or “abortion access.” The cost of living becomes “inflation.” A desire for safer neighborhoods becomes “gun control.” All of these are vital, of course, but they sit at a layer removed from the lived experience and are filtered through the language of national partisan conflict rather than the way people talk about their own lives.

So here’s what it looks like when we step back and separate the lived reality from the political reality, across four big domains of American life: money, health, safety, and rights.

Economics of Ordinary Life

If there is one universal language in American life, it’s money. Not in the abstract, but in the painfully literal: the rent that went up again, the groceries that don’t stretch as far, the car repair you weren’t planning on, or the math you do at the pharmacy counter. Across parties, this is the kitchen table through line. Democrats, Republicans, and Independents all talk about the simple, stubborn fact that life feels more expensive than it used to be. And they talk about it in nearly identical proportions: 45% of Democrats, 45% of Republicans, and 47% of Independents.

But once people shift from talking to voting, the shared vocabulary fractures. Republicans (40%) tend to translate those same concerns into taxes and the broader economy. Democrats (32%) are more likely to frame them as cost of living or wages. Independents (34%) scatter a bit, but the common thread is this: everyone is trying to voice their financial anxiety, and the system offers party-coded translations instead of the plain-spoken worries people actually have.

Human Side of Healthcare

When Americans talk about their lives, “health concerns” and “healthcare affordability” show up across the board. It’s reflected by 12% of Democrats, 11% of Republicans, and 13% of Independents. They’re all navigating aging parents, insurance fights, surprise bills, chronic conditions that are getting worse, and the sense that getting care is harder (and often more expensive) than it should be.

The split comes when people try to convert those experiences into political choices. For Democrats (14%), the translation tends to become healthcare access and reproductive rights. For Republicans (7%), it leans toward insurance costs and Medicare. Independents (9%) hover somewhere between. But again, the lived worry is shared: people want to stay healthy, keep their families healthy, and be able to afford it should they need care.

Unease in Our Neighborhoods

On the kitchen table side, people across parties talk about crime, neighborhood safety, drugs, and the general sense that their communities feel more unpredictable than they used to. It shows up for 8% of Democrats, 11% of Republicans, and 8% of Independents. More than that, it’s also the emotional texture that repeats: wanting the people they love to be safe when they leave the house and wanting fewer moments that make them check the locks twice.

At the ballot box, safety becomes one of the most dramatically reframed issues. Republicans (9%) tend to interpret safety as border security or policing. Democrats (9%) tend to focus on gun violence, community violence, and political extremism. Independents (14%) show bits of both. The experience is shared—walking home at night, worrying about your kid at school—but the political language splinters, pulling people into different policy universes even though the root anxiety is the same. So, if this chart feels messier than the others, it’s because views about homelessness, drugs, and policing tend to blur together in people’s minds, and the data reflects that complexity.

Tensions Around Our Rights

Rights are the one domain where kitchen table conversation just isn’t really happening, being mentioned by only 3% of Democrats, 1% of Republicans, and 2% of Independents. But, in those few occurrences the baseline still holds: people are talking about fairness, freedom, and who gets to live the kind of life they want without interference. We also see shifts in focus. Democrats bring up LGBTQ+ rights, reproductive rights, and immigrant rights. Republicans talk about free speech and Second Amendment rights. Independents express concerns about fairness, corruption, and personal liberties.

However, when these concerns hit the voting booth, the salience intensifies and the divergence widens. Democrats (20%) center reproductive rights and voting rights. Republicans (8%) emphasize gun rights and speech. Independents (10%) are the only group that keeps rights relatively close to how they appear at the kitchen table, but even they experience the gravitational pull of partisan framing.

Final Thoughts

One way to react to this story is where you focus on the divisions. Because yes, the political system is divided, and the vote-issue data reflects that. But underneath it, in the spaces of everyday life at the kitchen tables, the waiting rooms, the gas stations, or the late-night budgeting sessions, most people are experiencing the same pressures, anxieties, and hopes.

For now, we will leave you with this:

• What if we took people’s actual lives as seriously as we take our interpretations of their vote intentions?

• What would our politics look like if the kitchen table set the agenda?

• And what might change if we measured our democracy not by how loudly we disagree, but by how much we quietly share?

Maybe the future of American democracy depends not on getting people to agree politically, but on helping our politics reconnect with the things Americans already agree on. We have the data now, day after day, showing that the common ground is much larger, and much quieter, than that national narrative would have you believe.

More soon, from my kitchen table to yours. Happy Thanksgiving.

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Murmuration is a non-profit that strengthens community-driven change at the local level. By equipping local organizations with powerful data, technology, and insights, Murmuration helps them amplify community voices, build collective power, and drive solutions that reflect the lived realities of the people they serve. murmuration.org

Nearly at Equilibrium

The first and most striking is overall life satisfaction. Month after month, about three-quarters of people say they’re satisfied with their lives. That number barely shifts, even as financial pressure grows and stress rises. It suggests that beneath the everyday turbulence, people anchor their sense of life quality in something deeper and less volatile: family, health, relationships, routines, or simply their own adaptive capacity.

A similar steadiness shows up in how people feel about their local communities. Roughly two-thirds of respondents consistently rate their community’s wellbeing as excellent or good. It’s a number that wiggles a little but never breaks out of its lane. It seems that people’s immediate surroundings, the places they actually know and see, feel relatively dependable.

The same flat line appears in people’s sense of belonging. Across the last six months, about 62–64% say they feel at least somewhat connected to a community. That’s not just social satisfaction, it’s a shield against isolation. What’s interesting is how durable this feeling is. It doesn’t spike, collapse, or drift; it simply holds. The one-third or so of Americans who feel disconnected remain as steady in their experience as the two-thirds who feel they belong.

And then there’s the big, stubborn constant: views of the country. On this measure, the data feels almost resigned. Satisfaction with the direction of the country sits underwater the entire time consistently around 43–45% satisfied and 55–57% dissatisfied. People’s relationship to “the country” as an idea is strikingly consistent: it is something they worry about, critique, and keep at arm’s length, even when their personal lives feel stable.

To visualize this below, we’ve used a net score to summarize overall sentiment. A net score is calculated by taking the percentage of people who report a positive view and subtracting the percentage who report a negative view. When the line is above zero, positive sentiment outweighs negative sentiment; when it falls below zero, negative sentiment is more common. The distance from zero shows the size of that gap.

What’s Shifted

Over the past six months, a few things in Americans’ emotional and civic lives have genuinely shifted, and not in quiet, cosmetic ways. The first change is the rise in stress. Back in the spring, only about one in seven people described themselves as feeling a “great deal” of stress. By fall, that number subtly climbed into the 20–24% range. It’s not that everyone suddenly became overwhelmed but the top end of stress, the part that signals real strain, is growing.

At the same time, people’s financial comfort has worsened significantly. This is the clearest trend in the entire dataset. In May, 53% said they were struggling or just getting by; by late September, that share had jumped to 71% where it is still hovering. The share of people who feel financially comfortable or prosperous has marched downward in mirror image. It’s a movement you can feel in everyday life through rent renewals, grocery bills, debt payments, jobs not keeping up, etc. The subjective economy has cooled even as life satisfaction as a whole barely moves, which is an interesting psychological divergence in itself.

There’s also a noticeable shift in people’s sense of personal agency around local issues. In the spring, only about 27% felt they had a great deal or moderate amount of impact on what happens in their community. Over time, that climbed to 34–37%. It’s not a dramatic transformation, but it is a meaningful psychological one. Curiously, this rise in agency happens alongside a modest decline in how informed people feel and a softening in perceptions of local government effectiveness. In other words: people trust themselves slightly more even as they trust their local systems and their own information less.

We also see a real reshaping of partisan identity, not between the two major parties but away from them. Democratic identification has slipped several points since the spring (36% to 29%); Republican identification has stayed roughly stable (32%); and the share of people calling themselves Independent has grown from about a third (33%) to nearly two in five (39%).

Final Thoughts

Civic Pulse suggests an America not in crisis, but in chronic tension; balancing modest personal contentment with collective fatigue. For all the movement in stress, money, and identity, some parts of Americans’ emotional world have been almost eerily stable, as if certain foundations hold steady no matter what else shifts around them.

So, if there’s one through-line in the data, it’s this: people’s relationship to their country is faltering, but their relationship to each other still holds enormous potential to maintain hope (more on that coming soon).

The next six months will tell us whether this quiet resilience deepens into recovery… or erodes into resignation. In the meantime, a few questions:

• What does it take for personal satisfaction to translate into shared optimism?

• Can local trust repair national fractures?

• How much belonging do we need to feel before we believe change is possible?

Because underneath every chart and percentage lies the same simple truth that people are still looking for places to land, connect, and believe.

Six months or so later, the vibes remain complicated.

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Murmuration is a non-profit that strengthens community-driven change at the local level. By equipping local organizations with powerful data, technology, and insights, Murmuration helps them amplify community voices, build collective power, and drive solutions that reflect the lived realities of the people they serve. murmuration.org

“Thinking back over the last few weeks, what’s one moment, big or small, that brought you a sense of joy or happiness?”

The answers remind us that even in the midst of chaos, life keeps offering up these small, sparkling proofs of goodness. And, in some reassuring news, only 4% of people said “nothing”.

Everyday Reasons to Smile

The people who respond to Civic Pulse come from every walk of life and all over the country. So needless to say, they wrote about a dazzling array of joyful moments. Newborn twins. A 100th birthday party. Repairing an old motorcycle. Getting a raise. One person donated to a shelter, and another found shelter after two years of homelessness.

Across this diversity of experience though, one theme stood above the rest: nearly every other person (42%) wrote about family (broadly defined to include partners, children, grandchildren, etc.). Many wrote about simply spending time together, while others wrote about trips, BBQs, and first days of school.

For thousands of others, joy came from other types of connection. Friends described “playing Dungeons and Dragons”. Neighbors described “spending time together at block parties” and “taking care of each other after moments of hardship” or even just “playing ball in the street”. One person wrote, “sharing leftovers.” I wish they were my neighbor.

But no matter what moment they describe when people think about what brought them joy, it’s often about the people in their lives, as the word cloud below highlights the nuance:

In a time when so many people talk about loneliness, it was striking how often joy was described in the plural. One person recounted that “we went fishing with family and friends”. Another talked about “watching a funny video online with my sister. We could not stop laughing and giggling.” One recognized a moment of deep connection: “Sharing a precious moment with our neighbor’s autistic child, which makes me glad I could make another soul happy.”

Of course, not every answer was profound. And yet, were still gloriously human. A few favorites:

• “Goats.”

• “My best friend was in town and we split a pizza.”

• “My son turned 2 and I turned 23. We share birthdays.”

• “Buying a 500 dollar Pokemon card.”

• “My dad visited me and we got drunk at a Red Sox game.”

• “Walking outside and seeing 2 cardinals sitting in a tree having a bird conversation.”

And since we are here, we had to check: Are we more of a dog or a cat country? Turns out, we’re almost exactly split. Dogs showed up in 270 responses and cats in 236, including a new kitten named “Tostada”.

Final Thoughts

Thriving communities, it turns out, aren’t defined by big events or civic slogans. They’re built out of these small, reliable acts of showing up for one another.

As you think about your own week:

• Can you recall one small moment that made you feel connected to someone else?

• How might our sense of civic health shift if we treated joy or kindness as a measurable component?

• And could organizing look different if it began with what makes people feel alive, not angry?

When people describe what brings them joy, they’re also describing what gives them hope and strength. These moments remind us that the good is still out there, waiting to be seen, named, and passed along.

Wishing you more moments of joy and kindness.

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Murmuration is a non-profit that strengthens community-driven change at the local level. By equipping local organizations with powerful data, technology, and insights, Murmuration helps them amplify community voices, build collective power, and drive solutions that reflect the lived realities of the people they serve.murmuration.org

If you wanted to more fully understand someone’s civic life—how many times they volunteer, contact elected officials, sign a petition, attend community meetings, or show up at the polls—you might start with familiar questions:

• Are they optimistic about the country?

• How connected do they feel to their community?

• Do they lean right or left?

All reasonable dimensions to be curious about if you’re trying to explain why some people show up and others don’t. But across thousands of Civic Pulse surveys, our data suggest a simpler and more powerful predictor:

The Bandwidth Problem

That single question about financial comfort predicts civic engagement better than almost anything else (local vote history and religiosity excluded). Among those who describe their household as prosperous, one in four (25%) participated in three or more civic activities last month. For people who feel comfortable, that drops to one in five (20%). And for those struggling to get by, it’s just 13%.

Think of it this way: two people, same age, same education level, same political beliefs. If the person who’s struggling financially is able to participate in two community activities this month, the one who is financially prosperous will participate, on average, in a little more than three. A single missed moment may seem small, but in a country of ~330M, it adds to countless lost acts of participation.

That same bandwidth gap shows up most visibly during elections. Among those who describe themselves as struggling, fewer than 4 in 10 always vote locally. That number rises steadily with financial comfort up to 68% among the prosperous.

And because financial stress isn’t evenly distributed, these patterns deepen existing divides. Unemployed and low-income households are far more likely to describe themselves as struggling, but so are women (+7pp), those without college degrees (+9pp), parents (+4pp), and people in rural areas (+3pp).

Final Thoughts

It’s not that these folks care less. It’s that many simply don’t have the bandwidth.

And yet, when we ask people how civically engaged they want to be, the most common answer isn’t apathy, it’s aspiration. Almost four in ten people (39%) say they want to be more engaged in their communities. What surprised us most, though, is who feels this most strongly: people who are struggling or just getting by are actually more likely to say they want to do more than those who are comfortable or prosperous. Even when you account for how involved they already are, the pattern holds.

That raises a hard question for organizers, campaigns, and leaders:

• If financial comfort predicts civic action, what does that suggest about whose voices our democracy actually responds to?

• What would civic life look like if everyone had the time, energy, and stability to participate?

• Are we measuring engagement or endurance?

• What if boosting civic engagement isn’t mostly about persuasion, but about capacity?

The more urgent work may be helping people reclaim the time, stability, and headspace to act on values, beliefs, and ideas they already hold.

Here’s to a future where democracy isn’t a side hustle.

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Murmuration is a non-profit that strengthens community-driven change at the local level. By equipping local organizations with powerful data, technology, and insights, Murmuration helps them amplify community voices, build collective power, and drive solutions that reflect the lived realities of the people they serve. murmuration.org